


Sugar and Spice

by creativepixie



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Androgyny, Angst, Crossdressing, Dennis has mood swings, Domestic Fluff, Eddie is grumpy, Eddie loves it, F/F, F/M, Fake Character Death, Feminization, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I am enjoying this more than I should, Intersex, Intersex Waylon, Jealous Eddie, Jealous Waylon, Jealousy, Leadsville people have a lot of fun, M/M, Manipulation, Maybe mpreg, OVeruse of the word perfect, Oral Sex, Pet Names, Roomates, Someone keep the food away from Frank, Sorry Not Sorry, Starting Over, Unrequited Love, Vaginal Sex, Waylon and Eddie become roomies, Waylon is a little shit, Wedding Fluff, sorta?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-08-16 19:19:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8114344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creativepixie/pseuds/creativepixie
Summary: Waylon Park was tired.He was tired of his cheating fiancé, he was tired of his demoralizing job, he was tired of his god awful boss, and he was tired of feeling alone.So Waylon did what any rationale human being would do. He disappeared.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've written most of my other story and am just editing and this concept sorta hit me. 
> 
> I really love crossdressing Waylon and Eddie together so I thought why not try my hand at writing a fic?
> 
> So here is the concept:  
> Waylon's life is pretty terrible and Miles is MIA. So Waylon fakes his death moves to Leadsville, and starts over as an androgynous character. For most of his life Waylon lives as a male but when he starts over he decides to live his life the way he wants too. Most characters in Leadsville have something going on and in some twisted way I refer it to back to the videgame. Most times I will be writing Waylon in the male tense since he identifies more as male but there are times when I refer to his as female (more so later on).
> 
> Eddie is grumpy as fuck and it leads to misunderstandings between him and Waylon but when things start happening between them it gets sugary sweet.
> 
> I hope that I am able to handle how complicated this story is becoming but one can only become better at something with practice and experience.
> 
> Cheers!

Waylon Park was having an awful day. No, not an awful day, more like an awful life. Or at least his life had taken a turn for the worse when his parents died in an automobile accident. Ever since then, it seemed as though his life was taking a downward spiral. Waylon tried, oh how he tried to make things better for himself. But with every new thing he introduced to his life things just became more complicated.

It had all started with Lisa. He'd been depressed, pressured, and uncharacteristically decided to go with a group of friends to a bar. He'd met Lisa Whitemore that night. She was a gorgeous girl: mocha skin, pearly teeth, large doe eyes, and a perfect figure. She was the kind of woman men would kill for. Which had made it so surprising when she'd approached Waylon that night.

It wasn't to say that Waylon Park was unattractive but with a lean wiry build, a stature of 5"8 and roughly 130 pounds (soaking wet) he was not the epitome of manliness. He was used to being overlooked in favour of his other male friends. It had never bothered him before.

That night Lisa made it clear that she was interested in him. Albeit reluctantly, he gave the girl his number. Very much expecting this to be some cruel prank. It had happened before. An attractive girl expressing her interest and the next thing Waylon knew he was being thrown into a dumpster by a couple of jocks with a mean streak. Granted, that hadn't happened since he was in his first year of college but young people were cruel, and he'd grown to expect it.

However, the next day she'd called him and asked him to go for coffee, he'd agreed to it. They'd stayed in frequent contact until the two were engaged.

That's when things started to turn sour. Waylon wasn't blind nor stupid. He couldn't succeed as a programming consultant if he wasn't inquisitive. Lisa had a serious spending problem, and by spending problem she had a serious spending problem that involved Waylon's money. She'd go on these shopping sprees buying shoes that were hundreds of dollars, clothing with only designer labels, and jewelry that could make a down payment on a car!

His best friend had thrown a fit when he told him. 'She was crazy!' Miles accused, he needed to confront her about it. When he'd confronted Lisa the argument was turned on him. She'd left in tears and his home in tatters. He'd felt terrible about the ordeal and won her back with an expensive necklace he'd known she'd been eyeing.

Lisa's expensive tastes and his income did not walk hand in hand and after months of skipping lunches. He realized he couldn't keep up with this. Waylon hadn't ever dipped into his savings or his parents settlement money and if he had the choice he never would. No, if he wanted to keep his parents money secure, he needed to get a higher paying job.

The next week he was interviewed by the Murkoff Corporation.

Murkoff offered no room for creativity, or change. Waylon had offered various different proposals to improve efficiency and if he was lucky he was ignored, other times he was flat-out insulted by his boss, Jeremy Blair who was truly a grade A-asshole. 

He was the kind of boss everyone in the office hated and hoped would get fired or come down with some disease. Yet, day after day Jeremy was there with some obnoxious comment about Waylon's intelligence, appearance, or sexuality.

Ironically, he had no problem taking credit for Waylon's work and day after day his workload would increase, without an increase in pay.

He was burnt out, overworked, and exhausted.

And then Miles got a promotion and things managed to get worst.

Miles worked as an editor in the local newspaper but when he got offered a job for investigative journalism for the Planet Planet (1) news he'd taken it. He had been so excited and Waylon had no right to rain on his parade. Investigative journaling had been Miles' dream since they were kids. Even if it meant his friend being gone for the most of the year he deserved to live his dream.

So with a heavy heart Waylon saw his friend off and just like that Miles had gone.

Sometimes they managed to Skype but often times reception was terrible wherever Miles ended up.

It had been six months since he'd last talked to Miles and boy did he need him now.

Lisa was cheating again.

The first time it happened was two months into their engagement. He'd forgiven her rather quickly and she'd seemed so sorry.

Besides, Waylon hadn't slept with her. He still hadn't.

He'd told Lisa that he was different down there.

He'd figured she thought he'd had something along the lines of a third testicle, or a mole or something, weird things happened in nature. He'd get surgery to resolve it by the wedding and everything would be fine, and she wouldn't need to know the specifics. So, they'd agreed to no sex until marriage.

The second time she'd cheated Waylon had one foot out the door. Even if Lisa accepted him for his 'difference' the serial cheating would kill any relationship.

He'd been ready for it to be over.

Lisa was persistent though she cried, sent him flowers, and even had his friends against him. He'd given in and taken her back.

That wasn't the last time, she cheated, and cheated, and he was so resigned to it all he couldn't be bothered to fight anymore.

She got to the point where she never even bothered to hide it anymore. In fact, she seemed proud about it.

"If you were a real man Waylon I wouldn't need to look for it elsewhere." She'd said the last time he brought it up.

Miles was right: she was a bitch.

Fast-forward to today and Lisa claimed to be having a "day trip" with friends and asked Waylon to feed her cat.

He'd done so because why not?

He went into the apartment fed the cat, and before he left decided to go to the bathroom to do his business (I mean what good was dating if he couldn't use her washroom).

But there it was he'd come face-to-face with a pregnancy test that Lisa hadn't even bothered hiding on the bathroom counter. There was definitely two plus signs on that test.

She was cheating on him, without protection, and was pregnant.

She couldn't even pretend the baby was his because they still had never had sex and as far as Waylon was concerned they never would.

That was in addition to the fact that Waylon had been told that there was no possible way he could father children when he was young.

Waylon fled the apartment with one thought set of thoughts in mind. Waylon was not being stepped on anymore.

Oh, no Waylon Park was done with Lisa, he was done with his job, he was done with Jeremy Blaire, and he was done with his lonely life.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So something that may also come up is that Waylon isn't totally comfortable with himself in the prologue. As the story progresses he becomes more accepting of himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Waylon needed was to start over.
> 
> Somewhere where no one would had never heard of Waylon Park.
> 
> Somewhere where Waylon could be whoever he wanted and do whatever he wanted.
> 
> Somewhere where he would never have to see Lisa Braden, or Jeremy Blaire, or work for a company life Murkoff ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> Thanks so much for the positive reception of the prologue!  
> Here is chapter one where the story really starts and I hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> Also I'd like to make a shout out to  
> peachycans, thelovearesick, sofimischief for their comments! 
> 
> And thank you to  
> Shnmctsh, thelovearesick, Xx14PinstripesxX, Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood, Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood, Infestation, BLasphemy, Necromancer72, daliakoen, and peachycans and 8 guests that left kudos on my work!
> 
> I'd also like to thank those who have bookmarked my work!
> 
> I truly am grateful for your support!

Waylon stood in front of a rather tall man with beady eyes. The man had substantial burns to one side of his face and an unreadable expression. Waylon tried not to stare at the man's disfigurement, it was rude.

The male stared blankly at Waylon like he couldn't quite process what the small male had told him.

"So let me get this straight, yeah?" He said in a rumbling voice.

Waylon hummed in response.

"You want me to go into your house and burn it down."

"Exactly."

"And there won't be a body and you think no one is gonna look for it?"

"I assure you no one will look that hard."

"But there isn't going to be a body. They'll investigate."

"Look," Waylon stressed. "No one will look except for this person. That's the second part of this job. You make sure he gets my new contact. He will be the only one to look for me. Trust me no one else will care enough to be thorough about it."

The man whistled.

"Look I contacted you because I heard you were the best. Staging a house fire seemed right up your alley, if you could please take the money, and help me with this-I-I just really need this new start."

"And you don't want none of your shit?"

"No, none of it, take it, burn it, sell it, I don't care as long as you don't get caught I don't care. I'm done with all of it. I want all of it gone"

The tall man nodded in understanding and let out a sigh.

"Do you have transportation?" He asked. Waylon's expression must have given him away.

"Alright, do you know where you are headed to next?" He searched Waylon's face again before muttering a curse, he ran his hands over his face, releasing a sigh. "Look I just need you to have your bases covered so that mine are covered too. I'll get you a ride, maybe find you a place to crash for a little while but that will cost you extra."

"Yes, yes of course, that would be wonderful-"  
  
The man cut him off.

"You'll be out by tomorrow night at midnight, my ride will be down at 23rd street, at Wolf's Dinner. He drives a truck. Also, you better watch your transactions taking random sums of money out your account aint gonna do you any favours. You'll be caught and I won't take the fall for it. It'll look real bad on you. You may even do time."

Nothing the man said was unreasonable it made sense truthfully and it wasn't that Waylon hadn't considered the implications of being caught but he was so done. So done with Berkley California's bullshit.

"Don't worry about it. None of my transactions have been suspicious." He didn't want to tell a total stranger that most of the settlements he'd received after his parents death had come in the form of collectables and cash. Not to mention the off-shore settlement his father had invested in. Waylon was no genius but he was sure that the off-shore settlements his father would be a little less thorough in his withdrawing of money. That's what those accounts were for anyway. Once, his money was gone he hoped they'd lose interest in him for the most part.

"Alright then."  The man held out his hands and open the envelop, Waylon could see the other man clearly counting that the bills were what he had asked for.

"The six-thousand is there." Waylon said. "You will get the other six, when the job is done and I'm declared dead, and if you make sure that my contact receives my new information I will give you an additional thousand."

The man's eyes gleamed with greed. Without a doubt it was the easiest thirteen thousand that Pyro had ever made.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you Mister Pyro."

"And you Mr-"

"Mr Burkes."

"Nice, doing business with you Mr. Burkes."

[ ](http://www.google.ca/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&ved=0ahUKEwjk0ODszq3PAhWrx4MKHcolBzQQjRwIBw&url=http%3A%2F%2Fkr.freeimages.com%2Fsearch%2Fdecorative-band&psig=AFQjCNEX4gIibDBqmsCgZSKw1AASmhfWlA&ust=1474999327044408)

On the fated night, Waylon took one more walk through of his house.

It wasn't a large home by any means. Only two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a small yard. It was a rather old house with many fix-its but it served Waylon well and it had been cheap due to it's location. Originally, it had been a joint venture between him and Miles in their college years as neither of them favoured living in dorms. However, Miles had moved on, and Waylon never had it in him to leave.

This house was nothing compared to Waylon's familial home in Boulder Colorado with its long white arches, three stories high, roses bushes, art pieces, and the most beautiful fountain at the end of the driveway.

There were many wonderful memories of that house.

He'd wanted to keep the house, to keep his parents memories alive. However, he'd only been seventeen at the time of their death and not legally in a position to keep it.

With a heavy heart and Miles by his side Waylon watched the house get sold and entered a foster family.

He supposed the people were alright. They'd been informed of Waylon's condition and had treaded lightly. It was clear they did not know how to deal with his situation.

For that reason he decided to make their lives simpler by living as a man, he'd identified with the male sex to a greater degree anyhow.

Which until that point in time Waylon had never been forced to choose.

The late Mr. and Mrs. Park were both accepting people; particularly Waylon's mother. Perhaps it was due to their difficulties with conceiving anyhow Waylon's upbringing had been a privileged one and he'd never doubted that he was loved.

His parents often encouraged Waylon's exploration of himself.

With Waylon moving on, starting over, he could take the time to explore himself once more, he wanted to become the person he wanted and not the person that others wanted him to be. He felt lost.

Ever since Miles had left him alone in Berkley California he felt lost.

He took little with him. He'd meant what he'd said to the Pyromaniac. He didn't have anything of value in this home save for the belongings he had managed to salvage after his parents' death.

He'd managed to fit all those items in a box, deciding that if he was missing his only suitcase it may look suspicious.

There wasn't much he needed anyway, a few of his mother's prized teacups, some old books that had been salvaged from his father's library, an old teddy-bear his mother had commissioned on Waylon's birth, and two picture albums.

The other items he kept on his person at all times:his father's old watch which was perched on his wrist, a pair of shades with torti-coloured print, and finally the reading glasses that had once belonged to his father, as they shared the same reading prescription.

Waylon took one last walk around the garden before beginning his treck to Wolf's Dinner.

 

The closer to the meeting spot the darker it became.

It was a daunting how the streetlights became farther and farther apart.

Waylon couldn't help but observe that the more he traversed the shadier the locals seemed to become as well.

Some openly eyed him up and down. Probably checking for if he had something of value or if he was worthy of being robbed of his possessions.

Sweat began to collect on his neck. Waylon had, for the most part, divided his funds in ways that would be untraceable.

That didn't change that he was still holding a substantial amount on his person which consisted of:  what was meant for Pyro and what he would be living off of until he had a job.

If he got stopped or worse yet robbed, he would be in for a world of trouble.

He pressed forward regardless, hoping that his drawn up hoodie and gaunt appearance would be enough to deter them. Perhaps they would assume he was homeless?

As the walk waded on, Waylon began to have his doubts.

Could a man he had never even met be capable of pulling this off?

What if someone didn't buy his disguise. Waylon had been to frightened to take a cab fearing the driver may identify him if anything should happen.

What if he was recognized where he relocated?

There were so many what ifs.

But he couldn't stop now.

He wouldn't.

//////

He reached the Diner at 11:15pm it was earlier than he expected to arrive but he didn't figure it would help if he was late.

Too nervous to enter the establishment he loitered around the outside.

Ignoring the drunken patrons and idol teenagers.

It wasn't ten minutes later when he heard the gruff voice

"Burkes?"

"U-Um yes how did u-"

"In the truck." The man gestured to the offending vehicle.

Waylon shuffled behind the man taking in his features. He was large, an odd blend between overweight and muscular, with a pale face, and what seemed to be a advanced case of rosacea on his nose and cheeks.

When he'd climbed into the seat the man began to talk.

"You hungry?" He questioned first.

Waylon shook his head.

"Alrighty, I'm Chris, Chris Walker. Pyro said your relocating?"

He nodded.

"Ever heard of Leadville?" He questioned.

"No."

"Well that's where your headed."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the story begins! 
> 
> Feel free to leave comments and kudos as they are always greatly appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...so I intended on posting this last week...but I had a combination of a sinus infection and a cold running through my system so I have been lucky to be up for longer than a few hours. So though it is late here is chapter three! I hope you enjoy it.  
> I would also like to thank you amazing readers for your comments on chapter 2! You guys are the best fans out there and I love you for it!  
> So special thanks to:  
> daliakoen, peachycans, CurrentlyScowling, LampPostInWinter, Dark_oreo25, Infestation, and Lena for their comments on chapter 2!  
> Also, I'd like to give a special shout out for those who left kudos  
> Karkalicous413, chachamaru43, Lyumia, Earl_Phantomhive, Dark_oreo25, 7HotChocat1, LampPostInWinter, DeathStrawberry, maritzaforpizza, KikiTheFox, Deadpools_Spidy, Shnmctsh, thelovearesick, Xx14PinstripesxX, Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood, Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood, Infestation, BLasphemy, Necromancer72, daliakoen, and peachycans and 22 guests 
> 
> Finally, I'd like to thank those of you who left bookmarks.
> 
> It is with your continued support that I am able to continue writing!

Leadville Colorado. Chris Walker had said. He could feel part of him brighten at the concept.

He was going back to Colorado. A state he hadn't lived in since his parents death.

He'd attended the University of Berkeley, California and had been living there ever since. Part of him couldn't be bothered to return to Boulder, knowing all that he'd lost. He feared memories of a better time would plague him. Eventually, life had caught up to him with a job and a fiancé moving back home seemed pointless.

Miles had never really agreed. He believed that Waylon needed to be closer to his roots to ground himself. For countless holidays, he invited his friend begging him to return home for the holidays but Waylon always declined. He just couldn't bring himself to be around his parents home in Boulder knowing he didn't own it and knowing that he was ashamed of who he was. He didn't want to stain their memory with his lack of achievement. But somehow going back to Colorado seemed right to him now. He missed home. He missed the country air, he missed the view of the Rocky Mountains, and the snowy winters.

Staring out the window of the truck he knew the drive would be long. Which in itself was a scary concept. He knew nothing of his driver, Chris, other then the fact that he was driving him to Leadville. It also did not help that the man was built like a bouncer and had a face of a mobster.

Despite that, Waylon had managed to fall asleep rather quickly and slept through what was left of the night.

                                                                                                           

It was the smell of coffee that roused Waylon from his sleep, the smell caused his stomach to rumble.

"So didn't know what you liked so I got coffee and donuts. If you get hungry pipe up. Chances are I'll get hungry again before you though." The man finished with a chuckle.

"Thanks you really didn't have to do that."

"It wasn't for you. I was hungry and I can eat six of these suckers easy. Probably the whole box. Ain't Nothin' better than fresh donuts." He gestured to the box once more and Waylon reached for it. Upon grasping the box Waylon could feel the heat radiating from the box, he reveled in the delicious smell, feeling his mouth begin to water, he picked one of the glazed donuts.

Biting into the deliciousness of the freshly baked confection. When his teeth cracked the glaze he moaned. The pastry was still warm.

Paired with the coffee it was just the thing to address his hunger.

After the devouring the first one, he went for a second, and then a third. He was ravenous.

'Who knew the thing to work one's appetite was to fake one's death?' He thought to himself.

He washed the remnants of his donuts down with coffee.

Remembering himself, he felt himself blush with embarrassment, wiping the glaze that had managed to somehow get on his cheeks, as well.

Right, so he was in a car with a stranger who he had never met, eating like a starved man in front of him, and had yet to start a conversation.

He could feel himself becoming more flustered.

Chris gave Waylon an approving look.

"So, Mr. Walker-"

"Chris"

"Do you go to California often?"

"Wherever the boss tells me to go." He said with a huff.

"Oh." Did that warrant some kind of response? Time was elapsing, if he should have responded it should have been a few moments ago. Now things were simply awkward. Maybe Waylon should move along to another topic?

"So...Leadville?"

"Born and raised. Good place, nice folk, and the family's there. Gotta take care of your own." Waylon let out an affirmative sound. "You got family?"

"My best friend Miles."

"Friends are family." Chris responded.

"Mhm. Miles is all I have left. My parents died when I was seventeen."

"Sorry to hear that. My Ma passed away last year, my dad a few years earlier."

"Then we are both orphans." Waylon sympathized.

"Yup."

The two stayed in prolonged silence, the sounds of Chris's radio lulled in the background.

Waylon learned that Chris Walker was not a man of many words. He didn't mind that much. He seemed like a nice enough character.

He watched through the windows at the various landscapes blending from one location to another.

Watching as the life he had built to this point vanished only to be replaced with the forestry and mountains of his home state.

Waylon's chest grew warm.

 

                                                                                                                 

"Got any clothes in that sack?" Chris asked conversationally.

Waylon startled at the broken silence.

"Ah- no." He'd thought about it but at the time he'd thought that the clothes would weigh him down. The only things he'd thought to keep were the things that couldn't be replaced. Namely, his parents things. Clothes could be replaced and perhaps it would even be fun, shopping for this new Waylon Burke. It would provide him with further incentive to change his identity.

"Leadville ain't got a variety of shops. Don't get me wrong there are some shops but if you are looking for more options Denver would be the better choice."

It was a kind offer, really.

"I couldn't possibly ask you to go out of your way like that-"

"It's no trouble really. It'll only be a few extra hours. I can drop you off at a mall and catch a few Zs."

"Well if it isn't to much trouble-

"It's not"

"Sure."

They reached Denver in little over an hour later and somehow Waylon had fallen asleep again.

Chris nudged the other male awake and Waylon spent the next twenty minutes navigating to a shopping plaza that wasn't a mall, but still had many of the items he would be needing in his new life.

Chris wasn't all that helpful in finding a shopping center but that was alright, it had been awhile but Denver wasn't that far from Boulder and he'd spent quite a bit of time exploring it in his younger years.

His mother often insisted that Denver had a better shopping selection which resulted in several impromptu shopping trips.

He decided on a smaller shopping district. He had only seen it in passing his mother always opting for larger shopping centres but from what Waylon remembered the place was small consisting of several local shops. Yes, that meant that there was less variety but it also meant that there were less security cameras.

Hopefully, wearing a hoody and a baseball cap would also obscure his face from view.

He knew he had told the Pyromaniac not to be concerned about people looking for him; however, one couldn't be too careful these days.

Especially, so soon after the staged 'accident'.

Chris pulled up to a parking spot and began to recline his chair.

Waylon gave the other man a general timeline and exited the vehicle. For the essence, of his own safety, and Chris' patience, he'd have to be quick.

The first few stores, were clothing shops and he'd managed to procure a pair of running shoes, and red wellies.

At the next store, he picked up a package of undershirts, and packaged white tee-shirts, and two packages of boxers.

Upon, exiting the store he noticed a hair salon.

Waylon didn't know what brought him to it but it seemed to draw him in.

If he was starting over maybe a new hairstyle would do him some good?

It could even serve as a better disguise right?

He must have been hovering because a woman approached from the secretarial area with a smile.

"Do you have an appointment dear?"

"Ah-"

"Oh you must be a walk in! No worries Laurel is free! Would you like her? She's fantastic I swear by her"

"Umm yeah sure okay."

Gosh he couldn't remember the last time he'd done his hair, when he was young his mother made a habit of taking him to her hair salon appointments. Not that she ever let him cut his own hair.

Georgia Park had experienced a horrible perm and cut as a young woman. She'd been trying to achieve the Princess Diana haircut. Unfortunately, the perm went wrong and her hair never returned to it's previous texture or length. Instead, she kept it short and sleek.

She coveted Waylon's long blond locks. Refused to cut them completely. Much to his father's chagrin.

With each year Waylon and her had an increasing number of disputes over it. Miles had haircuts why couldn't he!

When Waylon began miniature league soccer it only became worst and when all the boy's on the team had cycled through haircuts he'd had enough.

Georgia returned home a panicking Miles, and handfuls of hair in hand, a crying Waylon with the most patchwork hair she'd ever seen.

Waylon had never seen his mother more angry.

And had never cut his hair on his own again, neither had Miles for that matter.

By the time of his parents death his hair had long since grown back brushing past his deltoids.

But before he'd been placed in foster care he'd shorn it off. (1)

In recent, months he'd felt the desire to grow it long, much to Lisa's distain. His locks now brushed just below the chin.

But part of him wanted his old hair again.

Waylon was brought out of his reminiscing when by the hairdresser's voice.

"So what would you like today, love?"

He mustered up the courage. It was a new life. A new start. He was discovering who he was again and no one in his current life really knew this Waylon.

"Could I get it longer?"

"Oh! You mean like extensions?" She sounded excited.

"Do you have time?"

"Honey do you see this store right now?" She gestured, there was only one other customer. "I have time." Then she let out a squeal. "You would look so good with long hair! I mean you have great cheekbones to pull that off, and your bone structure is to die for."

"That would look lovely!" Another hairdresser piped in.

"How long do you think that will take?" He asked nervously.

"Umm, maybe two to three hours depending on how long you wanted it."

He gestured to mid shoulder blade.

"Perfect! That'd be mhm maybe two hours twenty minutes but-Catherine come help me with these extensions?" She asked.

"Sure thing!"

"Honey you are going to be the best looking person this side of Colorado.

                                                                                                                       

"Oh. My. Gosh."

"Honey" The second hairdresser, Catherine, started.

"You look fantastic!" The secretary gushed.

Waylon felt himself blush at their praise.

They'd done an excellent job with his hair.

He'd thought that long hair would make him look like his old self ,it hadn't.

He didn't look like the Waylon of his childhood or even adolescence.

Adulthood had changed his features, brought sharpness to his face, that hadn't been present before, and he'd long since outgrown his baby fat and roundness in his cheeks.

He looked mature, the hair seemed to accentuate the sharpness of his features, as the hairdresser had previously mentioned, but it also provided a sense of softness.

Waylon couldn't stop running his hands through it.

He paid the girls extra for their services and thanked them profusely. He also bought the shampoo and conditioner they suggested to maximize the integrity of the hair. In four weeks he'd have to get the extensions removed and/or replaced.

When he left the salon he continued buying essentials.

At the Walgreens he purchased a toothbrush, tongue cleaner, mouthwash, toothpaste, tooth whitener, facial wipes, towels, soap, and his favourite brands of moisturizers (three for his extensive nighttime routine).

By the last store, Waylon was feeling exhausted, and maybe even a little high off the extension glue in his hair.

The last thing he really needed were some pajamas.

He walked through the stores collection, picking a silky black material, and an overlong shirt.

That's when he saw it.

It was a light blue number with white trim.

Maybe it really was the glue but he swiped the nightie and threw it in his cart, and then the same in pure white for good measure.

He even got a set of cotton panties. They weren't anything risqué designed simply and for comfort.

Waylon blushed. It had been a long time since he'd worn women's clothing.

He'd just fallen out of it of sorts.

And he was discovering who he was in this new life.

Besides it was only a few night time outfits and undergarments it wasn't likely anyone would see them but him. If things changed maybe he'd purchase more.

This was part of rediscovering who he was, right?

 

                                                                                                                              

 

 

 Hey Coz!" Chris said with enthusiasm.

"Oh God," he heard in response.

"He none of that!" Chris chastised. "You've missed me." The person on the line scoffed. "Just wondering...is Eddie still gone?"

"I don't know if I should answer that." Dennis responded.

"Oh come on." Chris retorted. "I am your _family_."

"Yes, exactly. You're family and in my experience you are a bloody _idiot_."

"Dennis, that cuts me deep. You are my favourite-

" _Only_ -" Dennis interjected.

" _Cousin_ " Chris pressed on. "And it would break your dead mama's heart to see how you were treating me."

"Oh-please your own mother thought you were one quarter short of a-

"All I am asking for a little information-

"He's still gone." Dennis hissed shortly.

The phone line cut short.

"Bitch." Chris uttered.

* * *

 

"Ingrate"

"Who's an ingrate?"

"Chris."

"Oh, yeah, definitely. What'd he do this time? If he fucked up the delivery again Eddie might castrate him."

"No, I don't think even he is stupid enough to ruin Eddie's lace again." Dennis responded. The look on his face must have shown what he was thinking.

"...But Eddie may still castrate him?" The other questioned.

"That is a real possibility."

Because Dennis knew his cousin and had a good idea as to why he was asking if Eddie's home was vacant.

                                                                                                                          

 Waylon returned to the truck. Pushing the full cart along with him. He'd never spent so much on himself in one day before!

Then again, he'd never decided to restart his life and need all new everything before.

He opened the passenger door to see Chris snoozing away, in the drivers seat.

The multitude of wrappers in the car suggested that the other man had eaten while he'd been away and quite a bit, if he was to guess by the quantity of garbage.

Not wanting to wake the man yet, Waylon took to filling the back compartment of the drivers side, then clearing the food compartments, and when he was done he took to waking up Chris.

The large man startled making him jump.

Chris took several moments to reorient himself before blinking and taking a look at Waylon.

His squinted before eyeing Waylon momentarily.

"You look different" His voice still rasped with sleep.

As old habit Waylon tucked the hair behind his ear.

"Um yeah, fresh start and all that."

"Oh, well it looks good."

"Thanks." He responded with a flush. In the time he had taken to go shopping he'd forgotten how awkward it was sitting in a truck with a strange man you knew nothing about.

"Well I got enough sleep to keep driving."

"You ready to get to Leadville?"

Waylon nodded.

 

                                                                                                                              

Over two hours later in the wee hours of the morning the two men arrived in Leadville.

Waylon could hardly see anything in the darkness of the early morning and the town that would be his new home.

They did not stop until Chris reached a white Victorian styled home.

He could not see all the details of it but it was beautiful, moderately to large sized, with several windows, and netted porch surrounding a deck that stretched the length of the home.

When Waylon exited the truck he could see that the driveway was a cobbled white path it was quaint.

"So this is where you'll be staying. Better than any motel in this town anyway. No offense to Trager, but yeah better. Take a walk through if you'd like but it's decent till yah get on your feet."

Waylon nodded. 

"Thank you Chris-for everything. You've been truly helpful." He held out an envelop containing money for the drive and even a little more he'd put in for the service.

Chris opened the package and his eyes widened. Fuck, Pyro wasn't kidding about this kid. Two large for the drive.

"Should I make arrangements with the homeowner?"

"He's actually out right now but I've told him all about you and he's really happy to have a tenant. Been looking for one forever. Until he comes back though I will manage your affairs"

"Okay?" Waylon said unsurely. The whole thing seemed rather suspicious.

"This is Leadville things are less formal than things with you city folk. Here."

Chris pulled out a key and started unloading his things, leaving no more room for discussion.

Now, perhaps it was Waylon's sore back, or current headache, or exhaustion from the over twenty-hour trip, planning his fake death, having someone execute his fake death, and the anxiety of being found out for faking one's own fake death but Waylon decided to not put up a fight.

Yes, it was a definitely questionable that the house owner wasn't present but who was he to question the habits of people from a small town he'd never been in?

Plus this place looked like something straight out of a bed and breakfast magazine. It was certainly believable that rooms were rented out.

Chris gave him a walk through of the house and walked him to the second floor.

"This is your room he pointed to the second door" He began setting his things down.

"Feel free to use the bathroom, or kitchen, and whatever else. I'll be back with my cousin to get you settled in tomorrow."

"Thanks again." said Waylon.

He nearly collapsed on the queen bed. Before drifting into a dreamless sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) cut he has in the videogame/most fanarts
> 
> Phew, longer chapter! But I really wanted to get to Eddie by the next chapter, so I had to pump it out.  
> Hope y'all like it!  
> And if it hasn't been made obvious then yeah Chris is totally letting someone stay in Eddie's house while he's away :P Where is Eddie? And how pissed on a scale of one to ten will he be when he finds out? Tune in to find out!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took much, much longer than I wanted it too. I had to take some time off to get better, do some exams, and deal with my sick cat. But I am back and mostly rejuvenated! So I am hoping that this week I get caught up! I would like to thank you all so much for all the support you have given me. It has been great!
> 
> Special thanks to:  
> KikiTheFox ,daliakoen, peachycans, CurrentlyScowling, LampPostInWinter, chachamaru43, Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood, Cayde, and Gyn_Blaise for commenting on chapter 3!
> 
> Also I'd like to thank QueenMilo, Traveling4fun (Axl01), Gyn_Blaise, Torke159, LoadingWorldDominationPlan, Lady_Midnight, marvelsbitch91, Shanai_Ortar, chobichan, JunsuChinCritic, urimarimo, Nekiare, KazukiSakito, Pandy334, Jaino, Opheliad, Jasminiasa14, Skywillow, Ezarel, aaeth, brendolhux, cardamomo, witch_child, Karkalicous413, chachamaru43, Lyumia, Earl_Phantomhive, Dark_oreo25, 7HotChocat1, LampPostInWinter, CurrentlyScowling, maritzaforpizza, KikiTheFox, Deadpools_Spidy, Shnmctsh, thelovearesick, Xx14PinstripesxX, Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood, Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood, Infestation, BLasphemy, Necromancer72, daliakoen, and peachycans and the 43 guests who kudo-ed on my work.
> 
> I'd also like to give a shoutout to those who have bookmarked this story!
> 
> It is due to your continued support that I have been able to continue writing!

 

Eddie Gluskin bowed for the crowd a bright smile on features, as he took in their applause. He enjoyed the appreciation of his works. He didn't need the approval of others to know his works were exquisite, beyond comparison, really. But it certainly paid better when they did.

He'd been grateful that he had become successful before the death of his mother.

She'd been so happy for him.

So happy to see her darling boy was becoming a success.

He knew deep in the recesses of her mind she worried, worried he could become like his father when he grew up.

He never had. He'd shown mother that he'd always be her good boy.

Even if he was no angel, he'd always done right by her and his aunt Marguerite.

He'd shown them that no matter who his father was, that he would become a great man, and using the sewing skills they'd taught him he'd become such a man.

The road wasn't easy but Eddie was a hard worker.

Though the people of Leadville had never met his father, there were rumours about the man.

The man who had taken Lucille Gluskin from her home town and ruined her.

Lucille who came from the richest family in Leadville, was the youngest daughter of Avery and Claudette Gluskin.

The daughter born by the union of a common Leadville miner and the daughter of a French ambassador.

A beautiful family, with two beautiful daughters, in a beautiful white mansion.

They were the talk of the town, the fairy tail in a small community.

Eddie's father had come along, taken his mother away, and ruined Lucille to the point where she was forced to return to Leadville and move in with her (at the time)estranged sister. With a nine year old boy with a haunted face that in some ways was different form her own.

They all knew that it was his father who had stolen her beauty, who had destroyed her fragile hands, who had broken her spirit, and forced a child upon her.

They all knew that it was his father that made her face become gaunt, her body too thin, and her mind cracked like broken glass.

She had once been the daughter of one of the richest families in Leadville and pillar of society. Now she was nothing but a haggard woman with an odd son, living with her stern sister.

She'd suffered. Suffered so much for Eddie.

It was the least he could do to become successful.

But he'd let himself become blinded by ambition and the desire to leave Leadville behind him.

He worked hard to get a job and do well in school so he could leave the town behind him.

When he was offered a scholarship he took the first available flight to New York.

His returns home became less and less frequent.

His calls fewer and father in between.

If he'd known what was going on he would have returned home.

But mother hid her illness well. She did not want to worry him, was what Aunt Marguerite later informed him.

When he'd come home for winter vacation of his final year he finally saw his mother's condition for what it was.

She'd become so frail and listless.

Nothing like the fiery spirit he'd known. Even when his father had broken her she had still been so strong.

This tiny thing could not be her.

Cancer.

The doctors had said.

Cancer. A brain tumor specifically.

Eddie cursed the universe for once again, dealing him with a bad set of cards.

If anyone deserved a painful slow death, of their own body destroying their mind from the inside out, it was _that_ man.

For, being a terrible person, for torturing both Lucille and Eddie endlessly. His mother was an innocent she didn't deserve the sickness that raged through her body. Destroying what little was left of her...

Eddie could not find it in him to leave her in that condition, not even for school.

He'd taken his courses online from home and with luck (if he could call it that) his mother lived to see his graduation.

She lived to see him sell his first collection only weeks later. She died that week.

Eddie was never the same again.

He'd moved back into the home with Aunt Marguerite.

He vowed to himself he would not to leave Leadville.

Three years later Marguerite began showing signs of Parkinson's Disease. Eddie had vowed to care for her but the stubborn woman insisted on moving to a long-term care facility just south of Denver.

It was a converted estate, expensive, large beautiful apartments, twenty four hour care, and gardens that went for miles.

It did not change Eddie's guilt of her leaving their home. To compensate he visited her weekly, if possible. 

Her bad days were becoming more of a regular occurrence as of recent.

Now he was thirty eight, enjoying yet another successful bridal collection, and yet it was all felt so empty. For the ones Eddie wanted to appreciate his works most, could not bare witness to his current successes.

At times like this Eddie thought of his mothers words:

_"Get married, son, and see how happy you will be."_

If Eddie did marry would it fill the parts of him that felt missing?

Would it feel the gaping hole in his chest.

Eddie's smile was vapid waving at the audience, as their applauds filled the room.

Finally, he exited the stage with elegance and poise, that one would not expect for one of his height.

                                                                                                             

Eddie sat in his hotel room sketching new designs.

Though many designers took to using computer technologies, and tablets, he preferred the use of a plain old pencil and paper.

He'd always been rustic.

So much so that he was still teased about it by his colleagues.

However, Eddie knew what worked for him and nothing inspired him more than a pencil to paper, and a good old sewing machine.

Why change a process that had served him so positively?

Besides, getting work done before he returned to Leadville would benefit him and provide an alternative perspectives to that of Leadville. 

As contradictory as it sounded New York provided a whole other atmosphere, providing him with new and interesting concepts.

There were downfalls however. New York had its own distractions, the city was riddled with beauty, something that Eddie was admittedly weak to. 

It was...unfortunate, how the beauty here was only superficial, fleeting, he always got wind of that soon enough, but the illusion of beauty always seemed to captivate him if only for a short while.

He worried, worried he would never find the right person, worried he would never find love, let alone settle down and find wife.

But his mother wanted it so much and Eddie was lonely.

It was all so complicated though, finding someone, how could he possibly when they were all whores.

He sighed and continued his sketches.

One day maybe he would find someone to become his beautiful wife.

++++++++

Waylon awoke feeling anything but beautiful.

He sporting a rather unsightly drool stain, his hair was pointing in all kinds of fantastic directions, and he felt like his entire body had been run over by a steam-roller.

Who would have thought a twenty-five hour trip in a truck would make him feel all sorts of sore?

Well, that made sense actually.

It was only because he needed to meet up with Chris Walker and his cousin that Waylon dragged himself out of the cozy bed beneath him.

He had barely been in a state to process the information the other male had provided on last night's tour.

Exploring the upper the level of the house he soon found a bathroom.

Moderate in size, with a bathtub, sink, mirror, and in a separate room, just beside, was a toilet.

Hm. Old design to the house, right.

He looked in the mirror, wincing at the sight.

Returning to the bedroom he returned with the hygiene essentials.

Hopefully, he'd have time to make himself presentable.

An hour and a half later, he was looking somewhat decent, and he'd braided his hair back in an effort to tame it.

Just as the door knocked.

Waylon rushed down the stairs opening the glass door to the home.

Only to see a bald man with clear eyes staring at him.

"Ah hello,"

The man hmphed in acknowledgement.

"Oh say hi you creep," Said Chris's gruff voice "This is Dennis, my cousin."

"Hello Dennis," Waylon said carefully, holding his hand out to shake the other's hand but the other man did not return the gesture. Waylon was forced to bring his arm back to his side awkwardly.

Dennis continued to stare at Waylon. His eyes raked over his form, as if he was analyzing every part of him, it was unnerving to say the least.

Dennis then turned to Chris and nodded.

Before turning on his heel to leave the home.

"Wait where are you going!" Chris boomed.

"Home" Dennis replied shortly.

"Wha-why? You were helping me take Waylon around town today!"

"I never agreed to anything, I simply wanted to see who was staying in Eddie's home, I have, and now I am going home."

"What-no!" Chris continued to yell. Turning to follow the already retreating man.

Dennis seemed to say one more thing. Waylon couldn't catch it.

"You bitch!" Chris called at the man.

But Dennis was now gone and Waylon was befuddled.

Chris re-entered the home with a sigh.

"I'm sorry about him."

"That's alright, umm, is he okay?"

"Oh, yeah, he's just he moodiest motherfucker you'll ever meet." Chris chuckled. "He's the smartest guy I've ever met but can't interact with anyone worth shit. Still Ma always seemed to love him more-" Chris said wistfully.

Waylon did not know how to respond to that and shifted awkwardly.

"Anyway I came to take you round town, since I know there ain't no food here, we will go to the diner first, then around the town, and see if we can get you established?"

"That sounds, lovely." Waylon smiled.

Chris nodded in response.

                                                                                                               

The diner had been an interesting experience to say the least.

The building was old, seedier than Waylon was used too. The waitress was gruff and the last concern on her mind seemed to be about customer experience.

Chris ordered food for the two. The meal was overly greasy sunnyside eggs, bacon, burned toast, and linked sausage. The only saving grace that was provided was the coffee and even then the flavor suggested it was old and had been sitting out too long.

Perhaps it was his body returning to normal, but Waylon doubted he'd be coming back here for food. Chris on the other hand was guzzling the food at a rate that would give a professional eater a run for their money.

But the food and the service were only one part of what made the diner so bizarre.

As it turned out Chris and Dennis were not the oddest people in Leadville.

The whole town seemed a little bizzare.

The inhabitants all had rather strange peculiarities.

There was doctor Trager, the retired doctor, who seemed to be more bones then flesh (as if he'd been vacuumed dried) who seemed to remind Waylon more of a mad scientist in a fiction novel. And it was more than a little daunting that the man neglected to tell him what field of medicine he studied. Chris warned him that, whatever it was, he should never go to Trager for medical advice.

There were the twins, who both hulking figures of little words, but there was something in their eyes, that seemed a little more fanatical then Waylon was comfortable with.

There was Father Martin who exerted the feel of spiritual figure but used too much fervor in the words he spoke, and Waylon was not surprised that the slightly fanatical twins were apparently very involved in his congregation.

There was Frank a friend of Chris (and apparently Dennis) who out of the men he'd met seemed the most normal. He had long hair, though unkept, and a long curling beard. Apparently, the man was a personal chef, and even provided private in home cooking lessons. Which Chris snickered at. Waylon couldn't imagine why.

The idea of being taught how to cook in one's own home sounded comfortable.

Frank was loud and he talked enough to carry both ends of conversation, which Waylon was grateful for, since he was much too tired to worry over conversation.

When the man insisted to accompanying he and Chris on their tour, Waylon felt himself looking forward to it.

The tour took place from the inside of Chris' car as he pointed out buildings, homes, farms, hiking trails, shops, the church, and more.

"That is Tina Lomilles house." Chris gestured.

"She is very friendly." Frank winked.

"Lisa Smith."

"Also very friendly." The innuendo was less subtle.

"Harriet Johansen"

"Less friendly but you like her once you get to know her." Frank grinned.

"Okay less talky about all the desperate housewives you are sleeping with and more tour-guiding actual useful information"

Waylon's eyebrows shot up, private in home cooking lessons, indeed.

The tour ended with a strip of local shops.

Where Chris encouraged him to walk around and take in the town.

Frank accompanied him while Chris stayed in the car.

Waylon quickly learned that Frank had a rather childish sense of humour but he was endearing and made the outing more fun. Waylon decided he really liked Frank.

"And here are the best hairties in town! Since us long-haired men need to stick together!" Frank smiled as he tied two in his hair to form ridiculous pigtails.

"Frank you wear those things you buy em!" Cried the store keeper.

She was a stout woman, maybe mid-forties.

"Aww come on Cath you know you love me!"

"Nothing bout love, you wear the merchandise you buy it!"

"I'll give you a free cooking session?" He whined.

"God, no. I'm still unsure as to how you even have clientele."

"Your the only one who hasn't had a lesson~"

"And it'll stay that way, there is nothing you can teach me I don't already know. Now pay!"

"I can pay." Waylon piped up. Dropping the sum on the counter.

"Aww thanks Way~" Frank hugged him.

Waylon couldn't remember the last time he'd been hugged by a friend. Lisa was not a fan of physical contact.

The last time he'd had physical contact without the person needing something from him was before Miles had left for his job at the New Planet.

Just his luck, he was finally being hugged, by a middle-aged man in pigtails and an unkept beard.

"Let go of him, man!" The woman, Cath, yelled, swatting the bearded male.

Frank released him.

"Sorry did I overstep? I do that sometimes?" Frank asked concerned. Holding his hands out in a gesture of peace.

Waylon could not help the giggle that burst from his lips, at the absurdity.

The other two startled but soon joined him in his laughter.

                                                                                                               

They walked down the street exploring the stores. It had been fun to buy small bobbles and better yet Waylon had managed to procure enough food to make a few meals for the following days. When they were done shopping they purchased three coffees, one was for Chris, all the while Frank kept the pigtails in his hair.

The two returned to the car in high spirits, Waylon laughing at Frank's ridiculous ways.

Chris simply stared at the two, as they climbed into his vehicle.

"Frank what the hell is wrong with your hair?"

"What these old things." He shook his head, reminiscent of something a hair model might do, "They make me look fetching don't they?"

"Nah, you just look uglier than usual."

"Rude!" Frank yelled.

"Way, Tell em, I look gorgeous!"

Waylon startled at the nickname. Only, Miles and his father called him that.

It had been so long since he'd heard from Miles.

Would Miles get his new contact information?

Would Miles even bother to look for him?

"Way!"

"WAY!" Frank yelled.

"Oh sorry what did you ask Frank?"

Frank slouched.

"Oh nevermind"

_________________

They'd returned to the diner for a late lunch. Much to Waylon's despair.

Oddly, the same patrons were there: Trager, the twins, the father, and some other familiar faces from this morning.

Had they stayed here the entire day? Or had they gone about their business and returned like he and Chris had done?

They had the same waitress from this morning, and when she left Waylon could not help but inquire.

"Are there always the same people here?"

"Pretty much." Chris said as he munched on his club sandwich. "Leadville's small. Not a lot in the ways of the restaurants, just the diner really. Plus lots of these suckers can't cook worth shit, me included."

Chris took a swig of coffee.

Waylon hmmed in response. Nibbling at his BLT.

He couldn't imagine living on this standard of food.

Once he figured things out he would cook for Chris, he decided.

He wasn't some five star chef but his food certainly exceeded this place.

Taking one more nibble, he set the sandwich on the plate, deciding he could not force another bite without his stomach protesting in retaliation.

Chris raised an eyebrow but said nothing. For which, Waylon was grateful.

                                                                                                             

When lunch was done Chris drove Waylon back to the home.

Only stopping at a farm on the way at Waylon's insistence.

Chris was again courteous helping Waylon with his purchases setting the groceries and food items in the kitchen.

Waylon smiled sweetly seeing the other off before taking in the kitchen.

It was a cute little kitchen.

All white appliances but a little dated if the woodburning oven was anything to go buy.

Still, Waylon could manage this.

The Parks had always been lovers of the great outdoors, spending many summers at the familial cottage.

Some of Waylon's fondest memories came from spending time cooking on the old woodburning stove with his mother, fishing with his father, hiking along the trails, and creating campfires in the backyard.

Waylon was certainly not new to cooking in an older kitchen.

It had taken him some time to find the kitchen utensils and he hoped he was not being to forward using their utensils but considering the homeowner was not present he thought it couldn't do too much harm.

Pulling out a chopping board and some pots Waylon made a quick meal for himself.

Nothing to extravagant.

Soup a L'onion with a fresh Garden salad.

It had done just the trick. The soup warmed him to his core, as if giving him a hug from the inside, the onions and cheese a strong flavour, and the remaining bread that had soaked the flavour of the soup. It was delicious. The salad provided a healthier component to the dish and Waylon just had to utilize the fresh vegetables he'd purchased.

Releasing a sigh he stretched and gave his belly a rub.

Waylon made quick work of cleaning the kitchen and dishes he'd soiled during the cooking process but found he was not quite ready for sleep.

He took to exploring the rest of the house.

On the main level there were two entertaining spaces one seemed to follow the scheme of a less formal family room, consisiting of a couch, loveseat, and television.

The other entertainment space seemed more formal with and old wallpaper finish, antique couches and tables (that had recently been polished), with a small bookshelf, and doilies covering several pieces of furniture. Waylon could not help but brush his fingers over the delicate fabrics, they were so intricate, and though Waylon often associated doilies with older women, he could not help but admire these ones. They were incredibly thin, made of white lace, their edges so intricate, some seemed to be inspired by floral themes, while others followed a pattern more indicative of complicated snow flakes.

Waylon concluded that they must have been hand made.

He wondered what hands could have been skilled enough to make something so delicate...

::::

Waylon continued his search of the home, there was another bathroom on the main floor, as outdated as the one on the upper level of the home.

The last door of the house seemed to reveal a basement.

The stairs were old, and wooden, but Waylon found his curiousity taking him to the basement.

What Waylon saw surprised him.

Unlike the upper two levels the basement seemed to have been renovated.

It seemed to be one open space, with a plush carpet, and sleek modern wardrobes but that wasn't what shocked Waylon.

It was the various rolls a fabric, measuring tables, sewing machines, their were ribbons, buttons, zippers, all organized but out in the open to see.

Even then though it was the beautiful articles of clothing that got his attention.

An egg shell dress tiered with a nearly translucent material from its beaded waist down, a blue lace dress that seemed to follow the intricate nature of the doilies upstairs, based on short sleeves, hem line ending at the knees,  a white A-line sundress with pockets with and matching straw hat: they were all lovely designs.

But the loveliest was a white dress with a satin bodice, the skirt was full, but over it lay a sheer tulle, that had an asymmetrical cut, along the hems were floral cuts of different shapes and sizes, some were even purple, pinks, greens, and yellows.

It was clear that it was a wedding dress but Waylon had never seen anything like it. He felt his throat catch. His eyes even began to tear.

He was so engrossed he certainly had not heard the front door on the main level open.

                                                                                                                   

Eddie placed his bags at the entrance of the house.

Immediately, sensing that something was wrong.

His posture stiffened.

Leadville was a relatively safe area to live, however, break-ins were a possibility anywhere.

There was also the fact that Eddie was a successful fashion designer, it wouldn't be the first time that someone had tried to steal his designs.

Though often breaches of that nature happened in the shop and not his **home**.

Grabbing the nearest object (which happened to be a lamp), Eddie to scan the area.

His eyes quickly latched onto the basement door.

He never left his workshop door open. Meaning someone was down there, or had been down there.

A rush of emotions overtook him. Who dared to encroach on his property, ruin his hard work, in his familial home, his safe haven?

Eddie rushed through the hallway and thundered down the steps. His lips formed a thin line and his grasp on the lamp tightened.

From his view on the steps he could see a figure.

"Who is it!"

Eddie roared.

As Eddie drew nearer he could see he towered over the smaller person.

Who released a yelp and turned to face him.

Blue eyes met brown.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I know I am sorta a jerk for ending here. But technically Eddie and Waylon have met in this chapter. It is only that they will interact in the next one...and Eddie may be out for someone's blood...  
> Also, in my defense this chapter is longer than both the prologue and chapter 1 combined! I did tht so I could combine introducing Eddie, Waylon meeting more characters and adjusting, and Eddie coming home. I even worry that I tried to put to much in this chapter and that I didn't go into enough detail with it so heres to hoping it wasn't terrible.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My cat would like to take the credit for this work (and not the one from the prologue). Since, he actually made me loose the first version of this chapter...On the other hand I actually prefer this version...just to be safe he is no longer allowed near the computer for future chapters...you know just in case...
> 
> I've also been a little worried that this chapter my not live up to expectations so I've kinda been hoarding it but at this point I feel like if I don't update I just never will. I hope you guys enjoy it! And once again thank you so much for the love! I am so surprised you guys are enjoying it so much!
> 
> WARNING: There is violence in this chapter so to warn you there is punches, choking, hyperventilation, and all around roughing up.
> 
> I'd like to thank:
> 
> Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood, Vulpine, peachycans, KikiTheFox, Torke159, LoadingWorldDominationPlan, LampPostInWinter, sukuiddo, daliakoen, Zomedicbunny , Infestation, CurrentlyScowling , Lady_Midnight, SapphireGarry , sassiestassbuttever
> 
> For your comments on chapter four!  
> I also want to thank 
> 
> Magnetic_Haerts, dannyrgz, sassiestassbuttever, saribel192, Pasally, wildgirl509, SapphireGarry, Grex, anime_induced_coma, Arimokika, Kyuubitamer, rebelangel6, Littleleetsuki, Zomedicbunny, Neonfartiez, Radwoman, Ghost_Sir, ArmYaoi, ShutUpJinx, QueenMilo, Traveling4fun (Axl01), Gyn_Blaise, Torke159, LoadingWorldDominationPlan, Lady_Midnight, marvelsbitch91, Shanai_Ortar, chobichan, JunsuChinCritic, urimarimo, Nekiare, KazukiSakito, Pandy334, Jaino, Opheliad, Jasminiasa14, Skywillow, Ezarel, aaeth, brendolhux, cardamomo, sillytea, Karkalicous413, chachamaru43, Lyumia, Earl_Phantomhive, Dark_oreo25, 7HotChocat1, LampPostInWinter, CurrentlyScowling, maritzaforpizza, KikiTheFox, Deadpools_Spidy, Shnmctsh, thelovearesick, Xx14PinstripesxX, Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood, Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood, Infestation, BLasphemy, Necromancer72, daliakoen and peachycans and the 68 guests who have left kudos for my work this far!
> 
> It is due to your continued support that I am able to move forward and keep writing!

Waylon was certainly not prepared for the sounds of the large figure bounding down the stairs towards him.

He barely had time to turn and narrowly miss the impact.

Eddie swung with all his might, the lamp almost weightless to him.

The porcelain and glass clattered loudly to the floor.

Waylon could not the shriek that escaped his throat, creating a piercing sound.

As the larger figure swung once more, the force of it making a distinctive, whoosh as it sliced through the air.

This time Waylon could feel the slice of the jagged glass against his arm.

He ducked once more as his assailant made another attempt to hit him.

"Sto- was all he managed to get out before the force of lamp against his chest sent him sprawling on his back, winded.

His attacker wasted no time climbing over him.

"Please sto- he pleaded.

The punch to his face left Waylon breathless and feeling dazed.

The pain bloomed accross.

"What are you doing here!"

The man roared. In a husky voice that Waylon shouldn't have found attractive at the time but did.

What on earth was wrong with him?

"What are you doing here! What are you doing here!" the voice repeated harshly with more intensity shaking Waylon roughly, as if he weighed nothing at all.

Waylon felt himself yelping as he felt large powerful hands grip his neck, oh gosh the man was going to choke him!

"I-I-please don't kill me!" Waylon stammered.

Ice blue eyes glared menacingly.

"Who do you work for?" 'Who did he? What?'

"I don't-I don't-"He couldn't breathe was the man already choking him?

His breaths came out in ragged gasps. He was shaking something fierce.

Eddie paused for a moment. Taking in the others size. He moved his hands to the others arms keeping him pinned.

"Oh god, oh god." The blonde repeated.

"Hey," Eddie said his voice dropping in volume.

"I never should have left, oh god, I'm going to die." Waylon whimpered, pathetically.

"You, you stop that right now." Eddie said quickly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" Waylon tried to say repeating the statement each time become less and less coherent.

Waylon wasn't listening his breaths came quicker, and quicker, he couldn't get a decent breath in he felt like he was dying. Why was it hurting so much to breathe?

"Shit, breathe, breathe" Eddie withdrew from the figure below him. "Hey."

Waylon began to hiccup, his vision becoming blurry. The weight on his chest was so much. The man was killing him.

"Hey!" Eddie yelled. He'd wanted to rough the intruder up, he hadn't been expecting the person to go into a full out panic.

The small male's eyes began to roll back into his skull.

As Eddie grabbed him and shook him roughly. "Stop! Stop!" He yelled.

But Waylon couldn't stop. He saw a flash of blue eyes, they were pretty. Then the world went dark.

                                                                                                            

"Fuck!" Eddie cursed.

"You, hey, you!" He shook the unconscious body. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew shaking the person who hyperventilated to a loss of consciousness was probably a bad idea, but he couldn't be bothered to think about that right now.

It took only a few moments until Eddie realized that his actions were fruitless.

The other was in a dead faint.

Eddie had no experience with this kind of thing.

What was he supposed to do?

Check his breathing maybe.

Eddie inspected the other from the small movements of the other's chest he could see the other was still breathing.

While he scanned the other Eddie took in the other's features.

His breath caught.

The man? In front of him had smooth porcelain skin, Eddie could see that beneath the parts of his face that had reddened due to the punch he'd inflicted, he felt guilt now. Eddie did not ruin beauty he made it flourish.

He could see the other had a thin frame, pale skin devoid of any imperfection save for the sweetest dusting of freckles on his nose, a wonderful bone structure, plump cupid's bow lips, and blonde hair that Eddie suspected fell in waves when it was not pulled into a braid.

He was so small.

What had Eddie done?

His hands brushed over the damaged cheek, he was so _small,_  so _fragile._

:::

Waylon could feel rough hands on his cheek, his eyes fluttering open, he felt lightheaded, nauseated even.

What had happened? _Oh_.

The events came rushing back.

He jolted to escape his assailant.

"Hey, hey, I won't hurt you. See?" Eddie said softly raising his hands to show he meant no harm.

Waylon tried backing away, the shattered glass digging into his palms as he did so.

Eddie felt that he did not want this person to fear him.

Waylon took deep deliberate breaths.

"Please don't kill me." He whimpered.

Oh no, Eddie wouldn't do that. Not now after he'd taken in how lovely his alleged burglar was.

"I don't even live here." Waylon said desperately.

"Of course not this is my house." Eddie said quickly.

"Your house?" Waylon repeated as though unsure. The statement not sinking in for several silent moments as Waylon took in the statement, processing it.

Eddie decided he enjoyed the others voice, it held a sweet tenor? Perhaps an alto, it was soothing, smooth-

"That doesn't make sense Chris said- Waylon began.

"Chris Walker?" Eddie's voice came out whip-like.

"I think so...I don't I can't remember his last name. But Chris said the homeowner wouldn't be back...and that he knew I was here...that we would arrange a payment plan"

Waylon's arms wrapped around him, trying to seek comfort.

"The homeowner wouldn't have attacked me so _viciously_." He said in his distress.

"Chris, Chris said you could stay here?" Eddie responded with a harshness he did not intend. Causing the other to flinch. Waylon found his words dissolve in fear, so he simply nodded.

"That whore!" Eddie hissed.

Waylon gasped.

"I-I don't."

Eddie's eyes widened when he needed to calm down if he wasn't going to panic the beautiful one. He took a deep restorative breath, think of something calming _running, back, slip, catch, overcast, basting, invisible_...and released the breath, he continued this process twice more.

"Let's start over." The voice came out calm and smooth. The change startling Waylon. He stared the man's demeanor had changed so quickly. It was as though he was speaking to someone completely different than the man who had assaulted him, the man who had spoken so harshly just moments before...

"I am Eddie Gluskin, this is my home, and this, quite obviously, is my sewing room. You are?" The charm was laid on thick but enough that it seemed to relax the other enough to respond.

"I am Waylon" he coughed at how weak his voice sounded trying again he said " I am Waylon Burke."

Eddie reached for Waylon wincing as the other flinched from his touch, he would have to remedy this. Truly Eddie did not want this person to fear him, it was unsettling.

In true Eddie fashion he grasped the other's hand his lips brushing gently against Waylon's knuckles, so softly.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Waylon. I believe there are things we must discuss" The honey haired male blushed brilliantly.

                                                                                                                     

Eddie had helped Waylon up and dusted him off. Eddie had ushered Waylon to the main floor, to the kitchen table where he provided a bag of frozen peas to cover the wound to his cheek.

He apologized once more.

As customary of his mother's teachings, he offered Waylon a hot beverage and a package of biscuits that he'd checked the expiry date of.

Meticulously, Eddie prepared a small setting of tea and biscuits.

Waylon was tentative in accepting the gesture, still unsure of the situation he had found himself in. Would this charming man revert to the attacker from before? He was unsure.

For a few moments, Waylon admired the intricacies of the tea cup before him. It was clearly fine china, probably hand painted. Once, again Waylon found himself lost in the beauty of this old home and the one who owned it.

As the other reached for a biscuit, Eddie winced at the sight of Waylon's neck. His hands had left red marks in the skin which Eddie was sure would later become quite terrible bruising, he scanned over Waylon's cheek. Eddie felt such guilt for it. He hated that he'd hurt the other but there was another feeling nagging him. One that concerned him terribly.

The two tried to strike conversation for several awkward moments trying and failing to establish warm greetings. It was as though there was something that needed to be said but no way of expressing it.

Resigned, Eddie decided to forgo introductions until the next morning.

Making quick work he cleaned the table of its contents.

He then walked the blonde to the room he'd been staying in.

Waylon closed the door behind him. Trying to process this crazy evening. Before flopping on the mattress in an exhausted heap. His hands ran over his cheek contemplatively. What would Waylon do from here?

Eddie sighed  from the other end of the door.

From this moment on Eddie would make the other trust him.

                                                                                                                 

Once Eddie was sure Waylon was tucked in for the night Eddie left the home, got into his car, and drove straight to Dennis' home. He rang the door-bell once, not at all surprised when Dennis answered almost immediately even at the ungodly hour. He motioned to the Chris' bedroom in the back.

Eddie did not waste time getting to work.

Dennis returned to his work on the desk, sipping idly on his coffee.

Making no mind to the sound of a scuffle, or the occasional shriek.

Eddie later emerged from the room looking no worst for ware.

Before slamming the front door and speeding off.

Dennis only looked up when the bedroom door creaked open a second time.

Looking up in efforts to see the damage he knew his cousin incurred.

Chris sported a busted lip, bruises riddling his face, and the beginnings of what was sure to be a spectacular black eye.

Dennis took another sip of coffee.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that the chapter was decent it was shorter than the last one but I hope it accomplished what I wanted it too? Little bit of smut in the next chapter cause why the hell not? And if those of you have picked up that there may have been immediate attraction even a wittle bit of craziness then here you go an imaginary cookie! Because what fun is Eddie x Waylon if there isn't some unhealthiness in the relationship! Love y'all soooo much and the next chapter will be up later this week!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually ended up moving the smut to the next chapter; however, I felt that it would do better for the overall flow and pacing of the story cause as much as I want Eddie and Waylon to jump each other's bones I sorta thought throwing it in too soon would also be a little much...so it's coming in the next chapter!  
> Also I apologize for taking so long to update things have been hectic to say the least but I am hoping I can squeeze some updates in. By spring I expect that updates will be coming in much sooner!
> 
> Another thing I was wondering is would you guys like me to post the inspiration for Waylon in this fic? I suck at art but I've heard some readers are having a hard time visualizing the Waylon in this story...the concept of Waylon for this story is androgynous he has both feminine and male features, I drew the inspiration from several androgynous models in order to come up with the concept. Ultimately, I think that whatever meaning that holds true for the readers is all that matters but if you want a better physical description, or visual aids, than I am open to trying!
> 
>  
> 
> LampPostInWinter, peachycans, cotton_head, KikiTheFox, Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood, LoadingWorldDominationPlan, Infestation, thelovearesick, PapaSatan, anon, Zomedicbunny , MistersPoeFinnDameron, Lawlpool, skittleluvr  
> For your lovely comments!
> 
> And to  
> CookieBait, skittleluvr, SMGeoff, keikochan, Sezzy626, MistersPoeFinnDameron, GuineaGenie, Maya_0196, RemySilverwing, saras008, dontyoudarestiles, Anon_Writer, v0hmit, luckyless, Jaskuwka, ethernia08, elaine92_ryuko, crackedskull, Sofiemischief, JustNobodyImportant, MilkyHime, Magnetic_Haerts, dannyrgz, sassiestassbuttever, queerly, Pasally, wildgirl509, SapphireGarry, Grex, anime_induced_coma, Arimokika, Kyuubitamer, rebelangel6, Littleleetsuki, Zomedicbunny, Neonfartiez, Radwoman, Ghost_Sir, ArmYaoi, ShutUpJinx, QueenMilo, Traveling4fun (Axl01), Gyn_Blaise, Torke159, LoadingWorldDominationPlan, Lady_Midnight, marvelsbitch91, Sr_Almohada, chobichan, JunsuChinCritic, urimarimo, Nekiare, KazukiSakito, Pandy334, Jaino, Opheliad, Jasminiasa14, Skywillow, Ezarel, aaeth, brendolhux, cardamomo, robutt, Karkalicous413, chachamaru43, Lyumia, Earl_Phantomhive, Dark_oreo25, 7HotChocat1, LampPostInWinter, CurrentlyScowling, maritzaforpizza, KikiTheFox, Deadpools_Spidy, Shnmctsh, thelovearesick, Xx14PinstripesxX, Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood, Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood, Infestation, BLasphemy, Necromancer72, daliakoen and peachycans as well as 108 guests 
> 
> Who kudo'd this story!
> 
> I'd also like to thank all of those who have bookmarked my works
> 
> Your support is so greatly appreciated!

There was no sleep for Eddie.

He'd gotten home from giving Chris what he deserved but he was restless.

This guest staying at his home.

What he'd done to him earlier this night.

The mixed emotions he was feeling.

It was all to much for his racing mind to process.

But through it all Eddie found inspiration.

He made a made a pot of coffee.

Taking the whole pot along with him as he descended to the sewing room.

He swept the shattered remnants of glass half-heartedly. Enough so he could sew safely, without damaging himself or the fabrics.

Then Eddie began creating, with his new beautiful muse in mind.

                                                                                                                              

Waylon woke in the dark of early morning, to the hazy memories of a dream.

It seemed just within grasp but was rapidly escaping him.

Something about a large figure, pinning him to a hard surface, and though the context should have scared him: he found that it did not.

It was an odd thing to dream about but certainly not unpleasant, and within minutes he had fallen back asleep. The faintest hint of a smile on his features.

                                                                                                                              

When Waylon awoke the sun was just rising, painting the sky in beautiful pinks and oranges.

Waylon felt calmness, Waylon felt warmth, Waylon stretched relieving his body of the nights tension.

He felt more well rested than he had in years.

In a lazy mood, he found himself lounging in the covers longer than was necessary before drunkenly leaving his bed.

Humming to himself he made quick work of going to the bathroom to freshen up.

And then yesterday's events came rushing back.

Had that really happened? Had he really been assaulted by the home owner?

Had he really found the man attractive? 'Well he is' a voice sounding suspiciously like his best friend, Miles, argued.

'Well yes' Waylon thought back.

Eddie was attractive, incredibly so in fact.

He found himself inclined towards Eddie, in ways he hadn't experienced before.

Firstly, Waylon had never been with a man before...

There had been that time, once during his adolescence, when he and Miles had been in an experimenting phase with recreational drugs and alcohol. However, sparks weren't exactly present...and it did not help that they both began to vomit shortly there after, and neither of them felt the need to repeat or discuss that experience ever again.

Waylon hummed to himself as he began to inspect his appearance in the powder room vanity, why hadn't he ever pursued males before?

Miles certainly shared his proclivities with him, females, then males, then a specific type of male.

Was it because of insecurities because of his unusual biology, lack of courage on his part, or had he simply never met a man who he felt the urge to be in a relationship with?

He wondered to himself, absentmindedly primping

 

He would not acknowledge that he'd spent longer to make sure his skin was at its smoothest, that his hair was styled neatly, or that the outfit he wore was coordinated and showed his figure.

He simply could not afford to think of it.

Waylon decided to focus his attentions elsewhere, and decided that breakfast may sate his (restless) mind.

Entering the little kitchen he noticed the groceries he bought the day prior.

Had it truly only been one night since he'd bought them?

It felt as though it had been so much longer.

With all that had happened with Eddie...

Speaking of the man, where was he now?

He was silent trying to hear the noises of the house which may alert him to the other's presence.

Soon enough he heard it, the distinct sounds of a sewing machine from the lower level of the house.

It was odd.

He knew nothing of Eddie.

He had a sewing room down stairs. Did Eddie work as a tailor? Was it a hobbie?

He'd never thought to ask.

Last night had been so sporadic that there was no opportunity to even think of such as thing.

But now he was curious.

Distracted he began making work of the vegetables, then the farm fresh eggs.

Wondering: who was Eddie Gluskin? And why was he so drawn to the man?

Especially given there circumstance of meeting. It was confusing.

Before long Waylon had created quite the spread of vegetables, omelets, sausages, bacon, breads, and oh my this was too much for him to eat.

He let out a breath.

Deciding that he may as well see if Eddie would like to eat some of this as well, there was to much for him to eat anyhow.

He was after all a large man which implied he ate more, right?

Waylon shivered at the thought, before chastising himself. Truly, there must be something wrong with him.

He could rationalize this, a meal with Eddie may be exactly what was needed to know where to go from here. Eddie had allowed him to stay the night but who knew? If Eddie didn't know Waylon was staying here then perhaps he didn't want someone staying in his home. If that was the case would Waylon be evicted? Where would he stay then? These were valid concerns and he just wanted to clear them.

Yes, that was ample reason to ask the man to join him, it had nothing to do with anything else!

Nervously, Waylon knocked at the door connecting the basement and main floors.

"Eddie?" He questioned.

No answer, though the sounds of the sewing machine implied someone was down there.

He tried calling once more.

With courage Waylon did not have he descended the stairs.

His breath leaving him.

Eddie was working diligently, on what only could be a wedding dress.

The other is moving quickly but efficiently, each movement perfectly calculated, and perfected with experience.

For several minutes Waylon watches in silence, as Eddie layers and folds, and cuts, manipulating the fabrics.

It is only the thought of breakfast cooling that breaks Waylon from his reverie as he tries once more:

"Eddie?" Waylon tries.

Eddie seems to break from his trance.

Blue eyes meet soft caramel.

For a moment Eddie's movements slow, and then coming to a stop.

He mumbled a response Waylon could not quite hear but he pressed on.

"It seems I made too much for breakfast I was wondering if you would like to join me?"

Blue eyes brightened.

Waylon rings his hands nervously, he feels like he is interrupting something important, a sacred ritual.

He begins to feel insecure about even asking the other to join him for a meal, Eddie for all appearances is a busy person, why would he bother with someone like Waylon?

His cheeks burn with embarrassment, Waylon begins to admonish himself.

"B-but I can see you're busy right now-"

"No!" Eddie says, more harshly then he intends too more gently he says a soft 'no'.

Eddie sets his fabrics in a manner at which he can return to them unhindered.

"I could use more coffee anyway" He says jokingly gesturing towards the long emptied coffee pot.

Waylon is unsure where the nervous giggle that bursts through his lips comes from but it does.

He reddens with embarrassment.

He's never made that sound before!

Eddie for his part finds it charming. Everything about this person he finds is absolutely charming.

They both make their way up the stairs and seat themselves at the table.

The food is still warm luckily.

"You made all of this?" Eddie asks surprised by the large array of food.

"Um...I found myself distracted...and made too much" Waylon worries that he will be in a constant state of flush in the presence of Eddie.

"That is very fortunate for me." He smiles softly.

Eddie is very attractive when he smiles.

They dish out quietly.

Eddie finds himself impressed by the meal, everything is cooked to perfection, the smells alone leave him salivating but the presentation alone is very impressive.

He closes his eyes and lets out a 'hmm' in appreciation, it's delicious.

"This is divine dar-Mr. Burkes"

"It's nothing much" Waylon squeaks. _Squeaks_.

"No truly, this is scrumptious."

"Oh please." Waylon says with a blush.

"Truly," Eddie's hand covers Waylon's for the briefest moment. "I do not offer praise freely... This is truly something to be proud of."

"Okay." Waylon responds softly, he finds himself releasing that nervous giggle-like sound from previously.

The two fall into a comfortable and continue the meal in silence. Waylon, pouring over Eddie's praises, tasting the food to see if there is truth to them, but all he tastes is his regular cooking.

Eddie on the other hand savours the meal. It's been a very long time that he has had a breakfast like this. It's been a long time since the designer has eaten regular meals period.

Eddie encourages the creative process, whenever it strikes, and sometimes that means going without food, or eating at strange hours, or staying up for days at a time and eating whatever is on hand whenever hunger pangs make their presence known.

He supposes a man of his station really does not need to live that way but Eddie has always been a hard worker, it's what he knows.

The meal is so divine he finds himself dishing more once his plate is emptied.

When the meal is done Waylon pours them both coffee.

Eddie observes as the other sips daintily at Aunt Marguerite's china.

Something about this feels right.

Eddie finds he doesn't want this to end.

"I'll clean up!" Waylon says suddenly, as he begins to pile dishes in his hands.

Eddie opens his mouth to offer help when the doorbell rings.

What awful timing!

The knocks to the door persist.

He sighs, "I will help you in a moment." He says solemnly.

Waylon nods absentmindedly.

"Eddie!"

"I know your in there!"

"Eddie!" The voice says louder.

"Frank." He says swinging the door open.

"Hey Eddie! So good to see your back in town, saw what you did to Chirs, it's alright totally, understood that. Still invited him for drinks tonight, cause you know you still love the idiotic lug and all~"

He stares. As if to say "Why are you actually here?"

Frank coughs in response.

"So right, Cynthia and Dennis say they need you at the store so just thought I'd tell you since I was driving in the area" Frank says enthusiastically.

 "You don't drive" Eddie stated matter of factly.

 "Ah yes, but Mrs. Scarborough does." Gesturing to the car behind him, which did in fact reveal Mrs. Scarborough and Mrs. Dale in the car.

"I thought she was married?"

"Seperated." Frank winked.

Eddie rolled his eyes in exasperation. He would never understand how women in Leadville bore such a torch for a man like Frank. Anywhere else in the world women probably thought of Frank as an overly thin, bedraggled looking man, with a questionable business at best, and awful fashion sense (though that last one incapculated all of Eddie's friends). Yet, here in Leadville Frank saw as much action as a old school Casanova.

"If you see them again tell them I will be at the store later today."

"Course! See yah, Eddie."

Frank waved.

Eddie closed the door behind him.

When he returned to the kitchen he could see that Waylon was finishing up.

"I was going to help you?"

"No need." the small male stated "I work fast."

"I can see that, I will have to find another way to make it up to you. Tea?"

"Yes, please."

Eddie offered a warm cup to Waylon.

"Eddie?"

"Yes? M-Waylon?"

"I was wondering what will become of me?"

"How so?"

"Well...it just seemed that with everything, that you really didn't know I was here...and if you didn't know you may not have actually wanted a tenant living with you? I think what I am asking is whether I will still be staying here or if you wanted me to go?"  
  
It was not lost on Eddie how each word became progressively quieter.

"Go?" he mimicked. Oh no, Eddie didn't want that. Ever since he'd met this Waylon Burke he had five beautiful designs running through his head, Waylon had very single handedly become Eddie's muse there was no way that he would let him go now that he had just found him.

"I truly don't believe that's necessary, this house is much to large for one person and I believe that it can be arranged for us both to reside here comfortably. Unless if you have any objections?"

"No, I would like that very much." Waylon flushed. "How would we set up a payment plan?"

Payment? Right Eddie would need to create some form of monthly rent.

"I do not spend much time around the house at times, if you were to help me with the home, we could create a plan around this?"

"You mean like cleaning?"

"You've already shown your adept cooking skills, I would not ask for you to do anything you are not comfortable with, however, it would be helpful. I could deduct the work you do for me from a monthly rental, would that be agreeable?"

"I guess, I do enjoy cooking and cleaning...Oh and I landscaped for a friend once...I guess I could try that"

Eddie's thoughts ran to another place. Eddie coming home to Waylon in an apron saying "Welcome Honey" , or what about Waylon in a French maid costume? Or simply Waylon in nothing at all...his pants visibly tightened. He'd come up with a way for Waylon to enact a domestic role which was doing things for him.

"Yes," Eddie coughed"Yes that sounds great over the month we can come up with some other tasks."

"O-Okay..." There was another silence. "So why was Frank here?"

"It appears I am needed at the shop."

"Shop?" Waylon questions.

"Yes," Eddie isn't sure how much to say. "I own a bridal store here in Leadville."

"So you are a designer?"

"Of sorts," Eddie says mysteriously. "I wear many hats."

"Well, I think that's lovely, no day makes a girl happier than her wedding day." Waylon smiles.

"Yes." Eddie agrees his eyes brightening at the statement.

"I will need to go this afternoon to ensure that affairs are handled appropriately..." Eddie says reluctantly.

"I will have dinner ready for when you get back. Would a roast be adequate?"

"Yes, that would be lovely." Eddie agrees. A warm feeling overcomes him, this arrangement will work out nicely, he thinks to himself. Very nicely indeed.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope that wasn't a awful. The next chapter is in the works! I'd just like to thank you all so, so much, for all the support you have all given me I'm overcome with the kindness I have received!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Sorry it took so long again but here's chapter 7! I've been hating the flow of my drafts cause I felt like I kept messing up so I ended up changing it 3 times and have settled on this flow. What it means is once again smut is postponed but spoiler alert there is for SURE going to be one in the next chapter and then some limey goodness in the one after that (though I won't be saying between who cause you'll just have to read to find out ;P
> 
> Again I want to thank you all so much for your love and support!  
> Special thanks to:  
> cotton_head, peachycans, Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood, KikiTheFox, sassiestassbuttever, QueenMilo, GuineaGenie, Infestation, Vulpine, thelovearesick, Third_Eye, Sofiemischief, skittleluvr, A Fan 3108, JustJuliane, Lawlpool, MilkyHime

Waylon had been living with Eddie for a full month now and things were going relatively well.

Every morning Waylon would wake around seven and had breakfast ready by eight with a steaming pot of coffee prepared.

He'd then go either to Eddie's sewing room where Eddie was almost always already awake and working diligently on some new project, or the other would sleep on a cot, that Waylon had failed to notice that first time.

Upon Waylon's call the other would always come up to meet him and the two would dine with amiable conversation.

By ten Eddie would leave the home to work at his shop.

While the other was gone Waylon would busy himself with cleaning, gardening, and then prepare himself lunch.

Then he would clean more, and start on dinner.

Waylon truly enjoyed this schedule but he found lonely when Eddie was away and missing the fabricator's presence.

It wasn't that he couldn't spend time with Frank, or Denis, or Chris but they always seemed busy.

Waylon found himself missing his old friends. Truly, he missed Miles.

                                                                                                            

 

Miles dropped his bags in a dramatic motion.

He hadn't been back to his apartment in months! It was so nice to have climate control again.

The brunet had just written a hard-hitting expose on the illegal ivory trades.

Disguised for months he fraternized with poachers, and black market affiliates.

The story had been golden of course, top of the line, and had evidence required to bring the accountable parties to justice.

Of course the whole experience had been the adventure of a lifetime.

A real adrenaline rush.

But now that MIles was home he realized just how much he'd truly missed it.

Initially, all Miles had wanted to do was take a restorative nap.

However, that simply wouldn't do. He needed to call Waylon, his best friend,  and tell him everything:

Dialing the number he'd known by heart and pressing it to his ear.

"We're sorry the number you have called is not in service." The woman's automated voice stated.

That couldn't be right. He dialed again.

"We're sorry the number you have called is not in service."

And again, and again.

He was sure if Waylon changed his number that he would have said something.

Perhaps Lisa.

Urgh. It would take energy to talk to that harpy alright.

Grumbling he dialed the witch with a b's number.

"Hello? Who is this" Her voice grated his nerves.

"This is Miles."

"Who?"

"Um. Miles Upshur, you know you fiancé's best friend. The best man at your upcoming nuptials?" really the nerve of some people.

"Well firstly, I have no idea who you are or what you are talking about. And second of all I don't have a fiancé he died in a house on fire. He didn't even leave me a penny. If you are his friend like you say you are wouldn't you already know that? Ugh god now I can feel a migraine coming on great thanks." Click.

Miles stood dumbly. Had she just hung up on him? After saying something like that she could not just hang up on him!

Quickly Miles redialed.

"Hello?"

"This is Miles."

"Oh my gosh what?" She said exasperated. "I just told you that my ex-fiancé is dead what more could you want?"

"How?"

"Uh a house fire what did you think I said."

"HOW did he die from a house fire?" Miles voice came out strained.

"I don't know something about the houses faulty wires or something? I don't know read the newspaper or something there were, like articles about it. Anyway don't call me back." Click.

Miles stared at nothing in particularly, shocked. It felt like his entire chest had been gouged out.

It simply couldn't be. Waylon couldn't be gone. They were best friends, they were brothers.

Waylon couldn't be dead because he was the kindest soul Miles had ever met. Waylon couldn't be dead because he was the one who always knew just what to say. Waylon couldn't be dead because he was always there when Miles needed him.

Waylon couldn't be dead because Miles had decidedly been the world's worst friend in the past year, and he was going to make it up to him.

Waylon just couldn't be dead.

Miles is on his desk top within moments searching the key words 'Waylon Park' and 'Fire' dozens of stories pop up. He reads the first from the Ledger.

_Monday 20XX_

_We are sorry to report on the loss of a young man by the name of Waylon Park, born in Boulder Colorado, to Georgia and Wesley Park. Waylon was a graduate of Berkley's Softwear Engineering program and the top of his class_ _. Said to be a protégé Waylon, quickly created several innovative programs. His supervisor Jeremy Blaire stated that Waylon was a very hard worker and would have surely climbed the ladder. Blaire shares that he was a close personal acquaintance with Waylon some would even say they were best friends. Blaire expressed deep regrets to this reporter, saying he truly will miss mentoring the young Waylon and that he wished the world could have seen the potential that his dear friend had to offer. For more on this please see page 24._

_We also stopped to talk to Waylon's grieving fiancé by the name of Lisa Whitemore. Miss Whitemore was hysterical upon interview. Clearly, very emotional about the loss of 'the love of her life.' The poor young woman cried as she explained the wedding they had planning and the life that had set for each other._

_Waylon was only 27. His death was suspected to be caused by miswiring by D-S electrical services. When we contacted them M-M a branch of the Murkoff 's electrical branch had no comment for us. For more on other cases on accidental deaths caused by M-M- electrical services (please see page 30)._

Miles couldn't do it. Returning to the search page he clicked on another link.

_Waylon Park, son, friend, fiancé._

Miles glared through his tears they had to be fucking kidding if that's the obituary they'd left for his best friend!

He continues the search for hours going through article after article. He can't believe it though.

Grabbing his keys he takes his rust bucket of a car and drives it to Waylon's home.

The home where Miles spends more than half of his time when he is home, eating, and laughing, and playing.

What he sees, he is not prepared for.

Once, where a beautiful little home sits, is nothing but an empty lot, with blackened land, and the parody of what used to be a home.

He doesn't realize he's left the car until he gets out of the car and is knee deep in the ash.

The grey sky above him rumbles as rain begins to pour.

Why does it always rain at times like these?

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone I hope that wasn't too bad but Miles really needed to make an appearance I know it was kinda short but the next chapter is longer and has a mix of both Miles and the developing relationship between Eddie and Waylon :)


End file.
